His Human
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: In which Buckbeak and Sirius share a bond and a desire for freedom.


_For Hogwarts, Assignment 2_

 _Notable Witches, Task 2: Write about the relationship between a human and creature_

 _Bath Bomb Appreciation, Paws for Thought: Write from the pov of a pet_

 _Word Count: 1086_

 _A/N: This is meant to be told through various snapshots, rather than just one big picture._

 _2: I played around with canon events and changed them a bit for the scene. Please just go with it_

* * *

I.

He is wary of the strange man with the long, knotted hair. If he could, he would fly off into the night sky without a second thought. But the other human— the small one, his friend— strokes his neck gently.

"It's okay, Buckbeak," the small one tells him. "This is Sirius. He's a friend."

The one called Sirius stands before him. Buckbeak regards him with a doubtful squawk. Sirius shows no fear at the sound and bends forward, bowing. A second, softer cry fills the air, and Buckbeak returns the gesture. Maybe the small one is right; this stranger is a friend.

"You're going to stay with Sirius for a while, okay?" the small one asks. "It'll keep you both safe."

Buckbeak turns. The little hut isn't visible from here, but he can still imagine his big human, his Hagrid. A mournful sound escapes his throat, and the one called Sirius reaches out, gently brushing his hand over Buckbeak's feathers.

"I know," Sirius says. "It isn't much fun being on the run. At least we'll have each other."

Buckbeak leans in, bumping his beak gently against Sirius' shoulder before lowering his body to the ground. Sirius and the small one embrace and exchange their goodbyes before Sirius climbs onto Buckbeak's back. The hippogriff takes off, savoring the feeling of the wind caressing his feathers.

II.

Buckbeak lets out an annoyed squawk. He doesn't like this cave at all. The walls feel like they're closing in on him, and he wants nothing more than to spread his wings, but those precious moments outside are too rare.

Sirius strokes his back. "I know, boy. I hate it too."

Buckbeak turns his head, affectionately nipping the man's fingers. At least he isn't alone. He has his human, and that makes things a little better.

"It's not as bad as Azkaban," Sirius continues, tossing Buckbeak a rat.

The hippogriff snatches it up, crushing it in its beak before swallowing. Sirius throws him another.

"At least there's some fresh air. And it isn't so lonely."

Buckbeak stretches out, resting his massive head on Sirius' lap. He doesn't quite understand the words his human says, but he understands the tone. That's one thing humans share with other creatures. The tone holds so much that words cannot express.

"Yeah," Sirius laughs, his fingers brushing through Buckbeak's feathers. "At least we have each other."

III.

"Do you really expect a hippogriff to be happy here?" Sirius demands.

The one with the long white hair over his face sighs. "No," he answers.

Buckbeak looks between them, clawing at the floorboards beneath him. He studies the furry one, anxious. Though the furry one hasn't done anything terrible, Buckbeak can see the tension in Sirius' body as they talk. He moves closer, gently nudging Sirius' shoulder with his beak.

"Let me take him out, Albus," Sirius pleads. "Neither of us are meant to be caged like this!"

"You are still a wanted man," the furry one— Albus— says. "Going outside with a hippogriff would be suicide."

"At least I would die a free man."

Albus shakes his head and mutters an apology before leaving the room. Sirius glares after him before shutting the door and turning his attention back to Buckbeak. "He isn't a bad man," he says, dumping the bucket of rats out. "His intentions are good."

Buckbeak cries out, nodding before snatching up the first rat.

"I don't think he's ever been locked away before," Sirius continues. "He doesn't know what it's like for us."

Buckbeak eats the rats as Sirius talks, crunching the bones between his strong beak and sending fur flying through the air. He saves the last one and pushes it toward his human. Sirius laughs and picks it up before holding it out to him.

"It's okay," he assures him. "I don't need it anymore. You eat."

Buckbeak protests with a cry, nudging his hand away. Sirius laughs again, shaking his head. "Eat it, Buckbeak. It's yours."

Buckbeak hesitates. He still remembers those days in the cave, huddled close to his human as they ate together. He doesn't understand why Sirius refuses the rat now. Is he sick? Is he dying?

The hippogriff lets out a mournful sound before accepting the rat.

"It's okay, boy," Sirius says softly. "It's okay."

IV.

Buckbeak can smell trouble in the air. The humans talk with urgent voices. He doesn't like it; something is wrong.

He taps his claws restless against the floor, squawking anxiously. The door opens, and his human is there. Buckbeak can't bring himself to settle down. His human is always smiling and relaxed. Now, his face is full of pain that Buckbeak doesn't understand.

Buckbeak nuzzles Sirius' cheek, confused. Sirius pats his head, but his hand trembles.

"I'm going away. We've got to save Harry," he says. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon."

Buckbeak relaxes slightly, but he can still feel the tension in his body. There's a note of promise in his human's words, but he can also hear the uncertainty there. He cries out, nudging Sirius again.

"Yeah. I love you too, buddy."

And when Sirius closes the door behind him, Buckbeak wants to follow him. He scratches at the door, crying out, but there is no reply.

V.

The door opens. Buckbeak doesn't know how much time has passed, but it's been too long. His head jerks up, and he caws excitedly. His human has returned; everything is okay again.

Instead of Sirius, however, he finds the scarred one. Sirius had called him a friend, and Buckbeak likes him well enough. Still, he is not Buckbeak's human, and the hippogriff moves closer, peeking into the empty hallway beyond the door. Sirius isn't there either.

He steps back, looking at his scarred friend. The human bows, and Buckbeak does the same. When the scarred one straightens again, there are tears in his eyes. Hippogriffs cannot cry, but he knows what that strange liquid means. He remembers his human waking in the cave, screaming with tears in his eyes.

Buckbeak does what he had done for Sirius during all those painful nights. He brushes his feathered head against the scarred one's face, wiping away the tears.

"He's gone," the man whispers, his voice quivering as he strokes Buckbeak's neck. "Sirius is gone."

With a cry, Buckbeak drops to the floor, folding his wings to cover his his face. He wants his human back, but he knows Sirius will never come through that door again.


End file.
